


Sweet Summer Sweat

by poisontaster



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a typical McCall-Hale Saturday morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Summer Sweat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaT](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaT/gifts).



> Inspired by this pic:   
> 

Derek is arguing with Serena again. It's pretty much a weekly occurrence. Scott is sure that people are starting to think this is some kind of show that the two of them put on, because each time, the crowd around them gets a little bigger and a lot more amused, watching them go at it.

"I could _grow my own spinach_ for less than what you're charging!"

"Then why don't you do that, Derek, and stop harassing me?! I will _give you_ the seeds, just to get rid of you! The price is the price. Either buy something or go buy your produce at the Safeway."

"Do you have any idea how foul their produce is? The pesticides and additives? I can't feed that to my baby!"

"Yeah." Serena crosses her arms over her chest, arching her eyebrows at Derek. "I do. Which is why you're going to buy my spinach. And my corn, and my lemons, and my avocados…."

"I not a baby," a small voice next to Scott says, an eerie soprano echo of Derek's irritation.

"No," Scott agrees, ruffling Antonio's thick, soft hair without looking away from the ongoing stare-down between Derek and Serena. "You're a big boy."

Scott's focus shifts away from the argument promptly, though, when Antonio's hand slips out of his. Antonio isn't going anywhere—not surprising, this late in the day, the crowds at the farmer's market are too thick for Antonio's shy and picky tastes—he just tugs on Scott's shorts and holds his arms out, with an "Up!" that manages to sound both imperious and tired. 

Definitely tired, because once Scott hoists Antonio into his arms, Antonio puts his head on Scott's shoulder, hiding his face in Scott's neck and sighing deeply. "Why's Daba mad?" Antonio asks.

"He's not mad," Scott denies, shifting Antonio into a more comfortable position in his arms. Antonio's body is hot and limp against his, an unnatural stillness for the eighteen month old. "He just wants to make sure our food is really good."

"Not hungry," Antonio whines, snuggling tighter to Scott's body. Scott doesn't know how he stands it; it's unseasonably hot and it's been a struggle to even keep Antonio in his clothes while in public. "Wan' go home."

It is well past the time that Antonio should've been down for his nap, at least if they don't want to regret it for the rest of the night. "Derek," he calls. It's soft, but he knows that Derek is always tuned to the sound of both their voices.

As Scott expects, Derek immediately breaks off with Serena to turn and look at him. He takes in Antonio's lolling shape in Scott's arms and the scowl falls off of his face, a softness in his eyes that's only reserved for Antonio. 

Scott might get jealous, if he didn't feel the exact same way, their little precious, amazing son. 

Without Scott having to say a word, Derek breaks out his wallet, and shoves a wad of cash at Serena. Serena smirks, taking the cash and handing Derek the fat bags of produce—ninety percent of which will go for Antonio's meals, because God forbid Derek Hale's son eat non-organic, non-locally grown food. It's a whole _thing_ with him. Not that Scott objects. 

It's kind of adorable, really. 

Antonio tugs at the strap of Scott's tank top. "Hot," he complains, voice wavering on the edge of tears. "So hot. I dying."

Scott snorts. "You're not dying, kiddo." He pats Antonio's butt. "How about we go back to the car and turn the air conditioning on?"

Antonio nods, sweet remnants of baby shampoo under a heavy layer of sweaty little boy. 

"Hey, bub," Derek says, leaning in to kiss the back of Antonio's head. "You ready to head home?"

"Yeah," Antonio sighs. He twists suddenly and it takes two sets of werewolf reflexes to keep him from pitching out of Scott's arms as Antonio reaches for Derek. With some careful choreography, Scott hands off the baby and takes the grocery bags. Antonio seems to think this is all great fun, giggling as Derek swings him up to his shoulders. 

"So how much did Serena take us for this week?" Scott asks. He doesn't have to put his hand on Derek's back to guide him through the thick crowds, Derek's more than capable of getting himself anywhere he wants to go, even with Antonio on his shoulders…but the years and shared fatherhood haven't stopped him from wanting to have his hands all over Derek whenever he can, or from wanting everyone around them to know Derek is his, that this is his family. 

"Shut up."

"Her family are the best farmers in the valley," Scott points out.

"Shut _up_."

"Someone's cranky." Scott tweaks at the sleeve of Antonio's shirt. "What do you think, bub? What should we do with cranky Daba?"

Antonio leans forward, throwing his arms around Derek's forehead, half-blinding him. "Nap time!" he declares, laughing. 

"Definitely! High five!" Scott holds up his palm and gleefully, Antonio slaps it. "I think all big boys will be taking a nap when we get home."

Derek looks sidelong. "Oh, all of us?" 

Scott nods seriously, letting his fingers slide down to cup Derek's ass, squeeze. "Definitely. You look tired. Very tired. Exhausted, even."

"Mmmm, but I hate to sleep alone."

Scott holds up a finger. "Ah, but I have an idea about that."


End file.
